


Captor

by LaythornMuse



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2019-10-27 09:01:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17763818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaythornMuse/pseuds/LaythornMuse
Summary: A new Write-A-Thon i started on my blog last week!  Sharing it here :) Enjoy everyone!





	1. Chapter 1

She wanted to die. It was her only coherent thought when she found herself huddled with three other women from her village. The only women left from her village. Several took off into the woods when the Duke abandoned the estate, leaving with the village defenseless. Others had taken their own lives, thinking it a better to be dead than to be beaten, tortured and raped.

Claire had been seeing to a birth and refused to leave Mary, a young teen giving birth to her first child. Her arms were still covered in her blood, and that of her stillborn child. She’d held Mary as the soldiers entered her small infirmary, and sobbed as her friend’s lifeblood went still in her grasp. The soldiers hesitated as first, before one came forward and grabbed her by the back of her neck and dragged her outside. She remembered clawing at the dirt, digging her heels into the rocks and sod in an effort to squeeze away from the firm hand on her bodice.

She felt herself lifted and thrown on the ground and felt herself bounce with a sickening thud. Her vision blurred as she felt her skirts torn from her thighs…and then nothing. Shouts and venom passed overhead in growling tension…and then she woke here, wanting to die. Her hand slid down to the tear in her skirts, confirmation of her memory and the attack she had survived. But why?

Her answer arrived a few moments later when a group of men gathered around her and the other women. She shrunk back against them, only to feel herself be pushed forward away from the group.

“Take her!” One of the older women yelled. “She’s the gypsy witch. Take her if you must have one of us!”

A dark chuckle emanated through the men as Claire fell onto her elbows, anger and betrayal burning through her veins as one man lifted her by her hair to her knees.

“She’s too bonnie to be a witch, aye?”

“They’re no’ ugly Angus. That’s what makes ‘em so evil.”

“Still, there’s no harm with a taste, aye?

Claire felt a pair of lips on her neck as another hand wrenched her hair back. An air of gasps and raised shouts filled her ears but didn’t stop her from digging her fingers into her attacker’s face. A howl and laughter followed before the grip on her hair went slack.

“Serves ye right, Alex. Ye know he’ll no be pleased—”

“Silence!” A voice roared over the crowd, though Claire could feel his approach louder from her position on the ground. The earth seemed to tremble as her eyes came to rest on a dirt-covered boot, with clean hose tucked over the brim and a kilt pleated neatly to the knee.

“I claim this woman as mine, and any who touches her from this point forth will answer to me.” Jamie swept his eyes over the men and saw each bow their head in acknowledgment. Only Alex did not back from the challenge.

“You’ll claim a Sassenach when ye haven’t claimed a Scots woman in years? What sort of dishonor do ye plan to bring on us cousin?”

“I’m free to claim who I wish, Alex. One at a time, aye? I believe your mistress lays in your tent so what argument have you here?”

“It’s no right!” Alex shouted. “An English whore should be on her back for our use, not flaunted on your arm.” Alex grabbed at his arm and pulled James close, stepping over Claire to do so. “Forget this one cousin. There are many women at home eager to warm your bed. I know ye don’t approve of how I handle the Sassenachs but I’ll go easy—”

“Nay,” Jamie barked and pushed his cousin back. He starred back at Alex, willing him to question him again so he could lay him flat on his back. Alex seemed to understand Jamie’s patience had come to its end and bowed his head at last.

“Aye then. Take the blacksmith’s daughter to see to the horses and see that the other mends the tents. The men began to disperse and Claire looked up at the hand extended towards her.

Christ but he was a huge man. His hand connected to an arm of muscle and sinew stretched in ropes over his frame, and with a few days growth on his chin, he seemed to shine in the flickering campfire. His blue eyes cut through her, cold as they were, as he shook his hand impatiently for her to take. She ground her teeth but took the hand he extended to her.

“I belong to no man.” Claire seethed.

Claire was covered in dirt and blood mud, and stood more than a head below his height, but Jamie felt a lesser man would have considered her words. Nor could he deny that the flint lighting her eyes golden tempted him to prove her wrong.

“You’ll know the truth of it soon enough, my Sassenach,” Jamie said as he snatched her close and before she could blink, secured a tightened rope around her wrists and waist. A moment later Jamie scooped her into his arms and made his way to his horse with his wriggling prize.

“You bloody Scottish bastard! Let go of me n—”

Jamie fixed a neat sack over her head before he heaved her up onto the horse’s back. Swinging up behind her, he pulled her close against his chest and felt her fingers clench around the sleeve of his coat.

“Good lass. Hang on now.” Jamie whispered to her as he sent his horse into a gallop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If your feeling gracious and truely love my writing, please consider buying me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/laythornmuse


	2. Chapter 2

Claire felt their arrival on camp with the abrupt stop of hooves. She felt her captor’s arm swing under her knees and felt them dismount in one swift jump that rattled her teeth and set her on edge. She felt herself dropped onto a soft mattress of sorts moments before the sack was removed from her and she was bathed in the soft light of a well attended tent.

Claire kept her mouth shut as her eyes watched the man called Jamie stalk about his tent, placing items from his person back in their appropriate places, and noted his daggers home on his desk. A woman appeared at the tent flap and placed a platter and jug on his desk without a word or a glance at Claire. She felt a desperation build in her chest to scream or struggle against her bonds, but a look at her captor kept her still.

He approached her with a cup of water, and settled on the floor beside her. He held it to her lips so she could drink before he began his questions.

“You’re a midwife, aye?”

Claire looked up into Jamie’s eyes, thankful that they were a shade less frigid as they were in the village.

“A healer, yes.”

“A young one, given the state I found you in.”

Claire’s mind flashed back to the group of men who entered her infirmary. He’d no doubt been among them. Her eyes narrowed at him but she said nothing. He stood, returning to her with a tray of meat and bread. He broke the bread and brought it to her lips.

“Not all women can be saved, especially not young ones.” Jamie said quietly. His eyes bore into hers, and realizing his words weren’t meant in criticism, she took a bite of the bread.

“Why would your own women turn against ye?” He asked her, and Claire felt her ire grow at his onslaught of questions.

“They aren’t my women,” Claire snarled. “Not anymore.”

She turned her head away but turned back when two more women appeared at the tent flap with a tub and several pitchers of water. They dumped the hot water into the tub, and left to get more given their haste.

Claire turned dumbfounded back to Jamie. “A bath?”

“There’s a nearby river if you prefer.”

“No!” Claire exclaimed, and Jamie couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. “But, will you untie me then?”

The women returned once more with full jugs, and departed just as quickly. “Aye. I’ll untie ye. But you’ll be naked in my tent to ensure you won’t run.”

Claire’s mouth pressed into a line, her anger overwhelming her. “What do you want with me, truly?” She asked quietly. “I have no family to ransom. I have no money. And your cousin made it clear you don’t typically take whores.”

“You’re to be my mistress,” Jamie answered briskly. “Not my whore.”

“And what if I don’t want that?” Claire replied hotly.

“Are ye used to having as many choices over your life, then?” James asked. “I canna say even I have so many, given that I answer to a laird who commands me as he wishes.”

His answer was not unkind, something she recognized immediately. Even in her English village, saying such to a man above her station could have earned her a few lashes.

“May I bathe alone?” She asked quietly, seeing the women motion that the bath full.

James took her hands and brought her to her feet. “Do you accept my condition then?”

Claire nodded, her cheeks bursting a shade of red as he turned to her back and began untying her ropes. His fingers untied her apron, and went to work on the ties of her stays. She felt embarrassed by how little she wore, given the nature of her work at the time of the attack, but Jamie didn’t comment on it, or the fact that her clothes were worn thin.

In only her shift, she was surprised when Jamie lead her to the tub and let her step into it before he pulled her shift over her head. She quickly lowered herself into the water, her knees brought up to her chin, as Jamie laid a washcloth and bar of soap on the tub’s edge. He then gathered her clothes and bowed his head to her before exiting the tent.

Claire let out a breath as she let her knees drop into the warm water. Oh Beauchamp. Now what?

 

Chapter 2.5

 

Claire scrubbed herself until her skin was pink, and then gave her hair the same attention. Unsure of how best to dry off she settled for wringing her hair while waiting for Jamie’s return. He didn’t disappoint, reappearing a few moments later, slightly damp himself with tartan over his arm.

“Stand, lass,” Jamie stated, and was pleased when she only hesitated for a moment. Her skin was milky white, with smooth plains over her stomach, hip and thigh. She was too thin, he thought to himself, but beautiful with pink budded nipples that made his cock harden.

Wrapping the tartan over her shoulders, his eyes met hers. “What’s your name, lass?”

“Claire,” she whispered.

“Claire,” he repeated, and helped her from the tub. The tub was taken away moments after she stepped out of it, and Claire noticed a hush fall over the camp. “Are they readying for bed then?”

“Aye. you must be tired yourself, Sassenach.”

Claire turned and found him removing his boots and kilt. She felt a bubbling of nerves jump into her throat and sat back down on the mattress.

“Are you going to force me, then?” She asked quietly.

Jamie turned to her, and watched as her eyes skirted the across the floor, unwilling to meet his and his answer. He removed his shirt and folded it, before he moved in front of her, naked.

“Get in bed,” he said softly, and Claire let a tremble escape her as he removed the tartan from her shoulders. She slid beneath the bed furs and a lining of tartan and waited as Jamie put out the candles and then slid under the sheets next to her. When she didn’t feel hands on her after a few moments, she turned back to him and found him on his back with his eyes closed.

“I’d never force ye, Claire.” Jamie didn’t open his eyes but took a deep breath. “I don’t believe in treating women as chattel, and I’ll no have one who comes anything but eager to me. Sleep lass.”

Claire felt stunned by his words but turned silently away from him. A thought occurred to her, however when he shifted.

“Could I beg you to put a shirt on if I’m to sleep naked?” She muttered.

“Nay. I sleep naked lass. As will you. I’ll no have anyone questioning my claim.”

Claire drifted off to sleep, wondering what it meant within a clan to question a claim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If your feeling gracious and truely love my writing, please consider buying me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/laythornmuse


	3. Chapter 3

Throughout the night, Claire had sidled closer to the warmth radiating from beside her. Winter was in its infancy, but a snow fall would come soon, and Claire could feel the cold snap within her limbs. She remembered finally settled when the warmth enveloped her, and only woke the next morning when its presence dissipated.

She was stretched in the inlay his body left, when the smell of warm berries convinced her eyes to crack open. He stood just behind his desk, readjusting his belt when his eyes caught her motion.

“Finally awake, then?” He called softly. Claire turned to face him, holding the tartan in place over her breasts as he approached her with a full bowl of porridge and wild berries. When Jamie turned to leave she caught his wrist.

“Aren’t you having any?”

“I’ve eaten, twice already in fact,” he said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “But you, Sassenach, will be plied with food until further notice.”

Claire gave him a small nod, and tucked into her bowl, emptying it in six bites. A woman stepped into the tent, with a neat stack of clothes that Claire recognized as outfit she wore the previous evening, now clean and mended.

“Thank you,” Claire called after the woman, but she was gone without a glance back at her. Claire dropped her gaze before turning it to Jamie who was writing at his desk.

“Why won’t the women talk to me?” She asked quietly.

Jamie looked up at her question, and realization seemed to cross his expression. “I forget you don’t know our ways, lass. The women here won’t speak to ye until you’re one of us. I’ll bring you before the chieftain this afternoon, and afterward you’ll be welcomed. You should dress.”

Claire reached for her shift when Jamie took her hand and held her stand from their bedsheets. He hestitated, letting his eyes travel down her body in appreciation, before he held her shift out for her. Claire’s cheeks burned with his appraising gaze.

“One shouldn’t stare,” she admonished him gently. “Especially when the other cannot stare back.”

“You are a bold wee thing,” he murmured taking a step closer to her. “Do you wish to stare at me, lass?”

Claire swallowed with difficulty, realizing her captor had called her tease and raised her the opportunity to act upon it. Feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her, Claire lowered her eyes. “I’m afraid I would know nothing to compare you to.”

Jamie’s face shifted as the gentle teasing left his expression and voice. “Truely?” He asked quietly. “You’re a maid?”

Claire nodded, lifting her bodice to her chest, and to her surprise, Jamie’s hands raised to help her with the ties. He said no more to her, helping her dress in silence and with thoughtfulness. Finally he seemed to find his voice. “Forgive me, Claire. I mean no disrespect, nor did I think ye to be a woman of loose morals but…”

“Most women of my age are not you mean?” Claire answered lightly. “Yes I know. At three and twenty I’m practically a spinster.”

“Och, nay, but a possible widow by your age for certain.” He brought her to sit on the side of his desk and wrapped his plaid about her shoulders. “Please tell me how this occurrence came to be.”

“You remember the women calling me a witch, yes?” She said with a smirk. “Well, they believed so because I often traveled with a heavy cloak, and rarely showed my face. For all they knew, I was a wicked old hag with a snagged tooth. In reality, I learned to cover myself when practicing healing in France.”

She told Jamie of her experience with contagion, and rare disease, but also one far more common. “A man tried to hurt me in Paris, shortly after I began learning. I stayed with the nuns while my uncle studied at the university, but it mattered not, and one evening a particular man who had watched me for weeks finally found the nerve to approach me. He would have raped me, possibly killed me if the guard hadn’t heard my screams.”

“Since then, I learned to take care where I showed my face, not wanting to garner unwanted attention. It was very effective, perhaps too much so.”

“Nay, I don’t believe it,” Jamie said quietly. “I had barely seen your face and still your beauty was enough to steal my breath.” James stood and walked to the tent flap, turning back to appreciate her disbelieving gaze. “I do not believe a cloak exists that could block your light, Sorcha.” He lifted the tent flap and left Claire to her thoughts until the hour arrived to see the chieftain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If your feeling gracious and truely love my writing, please consider buying me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/laythornmuse


	4. Chapter 4

“Are ye ready, lass?” Jamie called to her. Claire stepped out of the tent wearing his plaid across her shoulders and belted at the waist. Her long white neck was on display, and her curls blew free across her shoulders. Claire took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the center of the campground where a grand structure stood with guard at all sides. Inside, Jamie kept a hand on Claire’s waist, ensuring she was tucked to his side at all times. A curtain was pulled back and Claire found herself in a room with Alex, and an older man she presumed to be the chieftain.

Jamie bowed at the waist, and waited until the Chieftain stepped forward and patted his shoulder. The man turned to Claire and motioned her to approach.

“I’m Hector Fraser, Warchief for our Lord Fraser of Beauly. You’ll stand aside while we handle the remaining women left of your village.”

Claire felt a tug on her hand as Jamie pulled her to his side once more and to the shadows of the room. He kept a tight grip on her that she didn’t understand…until the women entered, gagged and in chains.

“English women, you delayed my army’s travel yesternight, and your villainous tongues have not stopped since your capture. We have no use for you.”

The silence was heavy in the tent as Claire looked between the women and Jamie’s stone expression. He held her waist completely within his left arm now.

“You’ll be sold this evening as slaves to a rival clan. May God have mercy on your souls.”

Claire felt her knees give out beneath her at his words, and understood now that Jamie anticipated this. His arm held her up and close, but at that moment she wished to run for fear of what words this man held for her.

The women were dragged away, and Claire felt her chest heave as her name was called. James steadied her, and then gave her a small push toward the center of the room, stepping forward as well.

“Claire,” Hector stated. “My nephew has placed a claim on you, but for you to be his mistress, you will no longer be considered an outlander, or unwanted. You will be considered ours, if that is your choosing.”

“My choosing?” Claire whispered.

“Aye,” Hector answered, and shot a raised brow over her shoulder to where Jamie stood. “If you wish to remain English, you may, and will be sold as a servant, no’ a slave. You’ll have opportunity to return to your people after three years time.” Hector cleared his throat and Claire felt her skin shiver at his annoyance.

“If ye choose to accept my nephew’s claim, you’ll be a member of Fraser clan, all the days of your life. As his chosen, you’ll hold no political voice, you’ll hold no authority of a wife, and you’ll be by his side until he chooses to release you, at which time you’ll be granted a home within the clan, or may go your own way. If you bear him children, those children are his and this clans. They will not go with you.”

Claire dropped her chin to her chest as she considered his words. Life as a captive was her fate regardless, but what type of woman did she wish to be?

Looking down at the plaid that wrapped her shoulders and fell to her hands, the wool still held the smell and warmth of a man who had shown her more tenderness in a day then she’d known most her life. Was a spark of light worth the chilling darkness that would consume her if…when he tired of her?

She did not glance back at Jamie. Instead she lifted her head and spoke her words firmly and clearly:

“I choose Jamie and this clan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If your feeling gracious and truely love my writing, please consider buying me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/laythornmuse


	5. Chapter 5

With the words spoken, Claire felt a heaviness fall over her, one of grief for all she sacrificed and one of fear for what her future held. Words followed after her declaration that she did not hear, and when she fell to her knees she did not hear Jamie call her name. She felt nothing but the weight of her pledge and wondered if all her courage left her when she jailed herself to a man.

She woke to darkness on Jamie’s mattress and felt the warmth of him behind her. She tried to keep her breath even, but within a few moments she felt his breath on her curls.

“If I could send my Uncle to hell with a glance he’d be sword dancing with the devil right now,” Jamie murmured.

Claire moved her head on the pillow but didn’t trust her voice as a tear fell down her cheek.

“His words,” Jamie began and then sighed. “Christ. That’s no’ how the men view such an arrangement. Neither do the women. Soldiers live a life in the field of battle and few ever find their way home, never mind to a Kirk to marry.”

Claire found her voice as anger filled the emptiness in her belly. “I doubt you’ll find yourself in such a predicament, being the Warchief’s nephew.”

“He was trying to scare ye off, to see if you had the mettle for this life…”

“Or to get me out of your hair so he can arrange a marriage…” Claire muttered. She pushed herself up on her elbow and felt his nose burrow into her neck. She steadied her breath but felt her blood pounding in her ears as his arm pulled her back against his chest. “Jamie…please.”

“Aye, I know. I’m suffocating ye.” His mouth opened on her jaw and began pressing kisses below her ear and down the side of her neck. “But Claire…Christ…you don’t even know…”

His hand cradled her face and as his body pressed against hers, but as his mouth failed to produce words that comforted her, Claire pushed herself to her knees.

“Don’t know what, exactly? That I had a choice that you failed to mention, or that I’ve just agreed to be your pet until you see fit to choose another? Which is it?” Claire shoved a finger in his chest, but despite her words Jamie grabbed her finger pulled her forward.

“Christ woman. Ye’ said yes.” Jamie growled. “My uncle asked ye to sacrifice your pride and honor and behold yourself to me, and for some unearthly reason ye’ said yes. Do you not know what that means to me?”

Claire stared back at him. “…I suppose I don’t.”

Jamie nodded as he licked his lips. “An error I plan to correct, lass.”

Jamie cupped her cheek and pressed his lips to hers softly, anticipating she’d have more words for him.

“Oh,” Claire replied, awestruck. A Scottish noise passed through Jamie’s lips before he pressed them back to Claire’s, his tongue touching the bow of her lip as he shifted them onto their sides.

He pulled her body close so he could feel every shiver, gasp, and tremble he caused as his mouth begged hers for access. With a soft whimper her lips parted for him, and Jamie nearly wept from the feel of her breathy gasps as he kissed her. Her lips and tongue chased after his when he broke for air, and he smiled as Claire dragged her nails along the stubble of his chin. She followed her nails with her tongue, drawing a soft groan from Jamie’s lips as his hands slipped down her hips to her arse.

“Sorcha, please you must stop,” Jamie breathed against her lips. “I hunger for ye when you kiss me that way, and I can’t in good conscience….Christ almighty…”

Claire pulled his shirt from his kilt and was pushing it over his arms. He obliged her and removed the item, taking her hands in his a moment later and kissing her palms.

“I remember you asking me earlier if I wanted to stare at you. Well, I’m ready now, and I expect you to oblige me.” Claire said between kisses.

Jamie panted as her hands moved over his shoulders to the hallows of his skin and over the clefts of muscle and mass. “Is this my punishment then for those words? To want ye and not have ye?”

“Perhaps, or my reward.”

Her nails clawed at his belly and he arched his back, watching her hands move over the plains of his body. Her shift sleeve slipped over her shoulder, and baring her skin to where her breasts heaved against her bodice.

She intended to kill him, he realized. He never felt more prepared to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If your feeling gracious and truely love my writing, please consider buying me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/laythornmuse


	6. Chapter 6

Claire’s head spun as her fingertips traveled over the curve of Jamie’s arms and shoulders. She straddled his waist and bent forward so her lips could kiss the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Then she rocked her hips forward, feeling the delicious friction at her apex build as she rubbed her core into Jamie’s hips.

Jamie’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her move, his body shifting towards her center so he could feel her squirms. She slowed as she felt the thickness of him beneath his kilt, and watched as he held his bottom lip between his teeth. She ground against him once with an agonizingly slow sweep of her hips, before she dismounted and unwrapped his plaid.

 

His arms flexed as he lifted himself onto his elbows, his eyes following her as she inspected the lines and curves that lead to his cock. He opened his legs to her, allowing her the room to admire all of him as he fought to keep his breath even. She brushed a kiss to his knee, and then to his thigh, breathing in the musk of his arrousal. His member was large and pulsing with blood, much larger than those she’d encountered in hospitals. Her mind imagined him shattering her, breaking her open until she was full, stretched and aching.

 

“Do you want me?” She whispered.

 

“Aye,” Jamie whispered, fighting to catch his breath as she rose to her knees again. “I want ye. Though, I’m so wound I do not know if I’d give you much pleasure.”

 

“You’d like to pleasure me?” Claire whispered.

 

“Oh aye, lass,” Jamie muttered. “I want to make ye scream.”

 

She felt her core dampen at his words, and her nipples swell against her bodice. She covered his hips with his plaid, and then let her uncertainty enter her face.

 

“Show me?” She asked softly.

 

Jamie’s face relaxed into a soft awe as his hand firmly grasped her hip and brought her center over his tartan. He arched up against the fabric and nestled her folds open, leading her hips in a gentle friction against his own.

 

“Ooh,” Claire breathed as she deepened her arch. His hand was on her bare arse beneath her skirt, and the heat of her alone nearly drove him over the edge. He wanted to pull his plaid away, so he could be skin on skin, or plummeting into her depths, but stopped himself. This was about her pleasure, and her enjoyment. He would not violate her in lust, even if she did drive him mad with it.

 

“Aye, just like that lass,” he whispered and his thumb slipped forward to press into her folds.

 

“Oh,” Claire cried, as his thumb brushed her clit, gently at first and then with more fever. She bucked her hips against his hand, shifting and squirming until the perfect amount of pressure touched her and made her tremble.

 

“Jamie,” she breathed, as her hips snapped harder against his hand. He was unable to stop his hips from responding to her, and ground up against his plaid to intensify his own pleasure. Jamie threw his head back as groans echoed from his chest and drove him closer to his edge.

 

“Yes, Claire….oh, God!” He groaned as he came against his belly beneath her grinding hips. “Dinna stop! Not until…”

 

A carnal anguish streamed from Claire’s chest as her body quivered and peaked against his flesh. She slumped forward into his waiting arms, and pressed her lips against his shoulder as she gasped for breath. His finger tips traced the delicate bones of her spine as she came back to her body, tickling the tender skin at the base of her spine.

 

Claire could feel the blood drumming in her ears, and felt her heartbeat at her core and in her feet. Only as her heart beat steadied did she feel the crisp breeze that broke goose flesh over her skin and against Jamie’s fingertips. He rolled towards them from the wind, his arm extending below her head as the other wrapped around her waist.

 

“You held me this morning, didn’t you?” She whispered.

 

“Aye. You were restless,” He answered softly. “Sleep now, my Sassenach. I’ll keep ye warm.”

 

Tucked into Jamie’s arms and tartan, she drifted off immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If your feeling gracious and truely love my writing, please consider buying me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/laythornmuse


	7. Chapter 7

Claire woke when she felt Jamie gently pull away, and she absently pawed at his retreating arms. A breathy chuckle tickled her cheek before a soft kiss touched her temple.

 

“Will ye no’ wake so we can break our fast?” He breathed against her ear.

“I could be convinced,” she murmured, and stretched her arms out to him.

 

Jamie lifted her easily into his arms, and held her as her legs wrapped around his waist.

 

“What exactly does a claimed woman do all day while you men do…whatever it is you do?” She asked, a laugh breaking her question as he nuzzled her neck.

 

“Weel, the men take shifts protecting the surrounding lands, two weeks out, two weeks here. While we’re here, we train, hunt, and guard the families here. When we’re out…”

 

Claire let her feet down as his words quieted. “Why did you attack my village?”

 

“It was ours first, lass,” Jamie said quietly. “The English have fought us here on the highland border for many years. It’s only been a recent development that we’ve been strong enough to push them off these lands.”

 

Claire let her eyes drop to their hands. “I didn’t know. I’d only been in that village for a year before you came.”

 

Jamie squeezed her hands before he gave them a tug. “Come. Let’s talk while we eat.

 

They settled into a lean-to type common area, warmed by the surrounding cook fires preparing several of the days meals. Claire’s eyes shifted around to the faces that now looked at her with less trepidation, and felt a soft blush rise to her cheeks as Jamie pulled her down to his lap. A bowl of porridge and fruit appeared before her, and Claire tucked into it as her appetite made a sudden reappearance.

 

“Not so fast lass,” Jamie murmured as his nose burrowed into her curls. “You want it to stay down, aye?” Claire met his eyes and swallowed her mouthful of food, and noticed for the first time that he appeared tired. “Did you not sleep well?”

 

“Nah, but it’s no matter.”

 

“Well, why not? Was…”. Claire noticed a slight tinge of pink enter his ears as Jamie looked away from her and took a bite of his own breakfast. “Was it because of me?”

 

“Aye,” Jamie muttered, taking another bite of his breakfast. “I thought I’d sleep better having…relieved myself a bit, but it just made me want ye more.”

 

Claire felt her chest flutter at his words, realizing she was unfamiliar with being desired. She laid her chin on Jamie’s shoulder as he ate quietly, and let the sounds of the activity nearby fill her until a thought entered her mind. “So you’ll be leaving again? In two weeks?”

 

“Aye.”

 

“What will I do while you’re gone?”

 

A small smile crossed his expression as he chewed. “Oh, I thought you may lament my absence for a day or two, but then you’d find time to do some laundering and sewing.”

 

She slapped at his arm. “Lament is it? Or relieved to have you out from under foot?”

 

“Och, sharp words, my Sassenach,” he murmured into her jaw before he pressed a kiss to her lips. She kissed him back and grinned as he squeezed her closer.

 

“Nay. The women here run the camp, and give the men several chores to complete while they’re home. I expect there will be some woman by soon to collect you and introduce you to everyone. They’ll get you sorted…but we should keep it to ourselves that we haven’t laid together.” Jamie said softly.

 

Claire’s brows furrowed but she nodded. “Is it dangerous that we haven’t?”

 

“Not exactly. My claim is sufficient enough, but I don’t wish to tempt my cousin’s ire, given his reaction to ye thus far. If he realized I…” Jamie’s ears turned a light shade of pink as he dropped his eyes from hers. “Aye, well. Just keep it between us, lass.” He pressed a final kiss to her lips before he waved on a group of women who had their eyes set on Claire, and to her relief, seemed intent on talking her ear off the majority of the day.

 

***

 

Newly outfitted with three wool dresses, 4 shifts, two pairs of warm boots and several tartan wraps, Claire felt she might finally get warm. Her afternoon was spent going over the camps herb supply and meeting the other families in camp, the sweetest of which was Helen, a woman about her age, but as timid as the flee. She was surprised when she discovered she was Alex’s woman.

She vowed to ask Jamie more about her and Alex when the day ended, but when Jamie returned to their tent that afternoon, Her concerns left her as he swept her into a hungry kiss that made her knees tremble.

“Ye look Bonnie in my colors,” he murmured against her lips.

“I’m glad you approve,” Claire whispered, as her arms wrapped around his neck. Jamie pulled at her wrap, exposing her neck and cleavage to his mouth. She threaded her fingers into his curls, and felt her heart swell at his soft kisses and warmth.

“I heard you impressed our elder healer woman,” Jamie murmured into her ear, as his hands melded to her curves.

Claire let out a breathy laugh. “Yes, I did. Fiona was very pleased to have another hand in the infirmary.” A small smile played across Claire’s lips as she said the next part. “She told me in secret that I had chosen a fine man, as well.”

Jamie pressed his forehead to hers as he pulled her closer. “Are ye’ less afraid of this life with me then?”

Claire looked up into Jamie’s face, and saw the nervousness and hope and total openness before her. She cupped his cheek and rubbed the corner of his mouth with her thumb. “Yes, I am.”

 

Jamie’s face brightened with her words and he brought her hand to his lips. “Then perhaps you wouldn’t mind an unconventional supper?”

 

Claire quirked her brow but smiled. “Lead the way, my lad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If your feeling gracious and truely love my writing, please consider buying me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/laythornmuse


	8. Chapter 8

They dismounted into a field of grass stiffened from the winter cold. Taking shelter behind the a boulder, Jamie revealed their packed dinner of cured meats, cheese and bread with a flask of whiskey to share between them. Jamie pulled Claire down between his knees and wrapped them both in the extra plaid he’d packed, as Claire made quick work of feeding them both. Laughter sounded between the two as fingers brushed against lips and limbs curled around legs. The heat of his breath on her neck made her shiver as his teeth grazed the skin below her earlobe. A raspy moan escaped her, and it granted him the encouragement needed to loosen her stays. Slowly, he lowered the boning that shielded her from him, watching as her pink ended skin plumped beneath her shift until red pebbles tented the thin material. He could not resist swiping his thumb over one peak as he tipped her mouth up to his.

“Jamie?” Claire whispered.

“Mmmm?”

“How many women have you laid with?”

The question stilled his mouth and made him pull away a few inches to seek her eyes.

“Why would you ask such a thing?” Jamie replied.

Claire sought the words for her thoughts, unsure how to explain the real answer she sought. She knew boys were encouraged to start bedding at 16, and didn’t feel jealousy over the thoughts of this man with a woman before, not with the way he craved her now. But a question did linger.

“I wanted to know why you…chose me, I suppose.”

“And you thought you’d find the answer in past bedmates?” Jamie asked skeptically.

“No, I…never mind. Here, let me pack the bread.”

Jamie watched her stand and retreat to their horse, watching her as she neatly tucked the parcel of food into their packs and pressed a comforting hand to the horse’s neck.

Claire stood by the horse for several minutes, combing out knotted lock with her fingers as her mind spun like a top.

“Three.”

Jamie stood a pace or two behind her, but she didn’t turn.

“I was a lad the first time, drunk the second, and struck dumb with infatuation by the third. Good lessons, all.”

“What lessons were those?” Claire whispered.

“Humility, Temperance, And Sense. All hard earned.” He grumbled as he shifted closer to her. Her eyes met his over her shoulder as she appraised his answer.

“I’m afraid that doesn’t answer your question,” he murmured by her ear. He slid his hands into sleeves of her shift, and tightened his hold on her. “I do like your curls, and how they fall down your back when you stretch. The way your arse spills over my hands, it makes me want to praise God on my knees. There’s also your gentle touch, your soft words, the sound of bells in your laugh…”

Claire felt her face flush several degrees of red as he pulled her closer until her breasts were pushed against his chest and her fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders.

“But it was your brazen courage that made me fall for ye, Claire. Surrounded by six men twice the size of you, you would not surrender your charge until you saw her pass safely. Your eyes glowed like coal embers, and I swore to myself then to be worthy of you, so you’d turn that gaze on me.”

 

Claire’s mouth fell open in her surprise as she considered Jamie’s words. She paused to collect herself before she spoke.

“Mary was so young and so frightened,” she whispered. “I didn’t know her for very long, but I made a promise to stay with her, and I would not abandon it.” She swept her eyes up to him. “In that moment, I saw nothing but my death, and my promise. I’m not sure that counts as bravery.”

 

“I disagree, Sorcha,” Jamie asked. His hand swept over her cheek as he dipped his head to hers. “It takes fortitude and guile to stand by your word instead of fleeing. As it is, I’ve scared ye senseless since we’ve met and yet here you stand.”

 

“Just that first night,” Claire answered, with a grin. She let her eyes drop to their interlaced fingers. She felt like a contradiction in this man’s arms: a part of her felt hurried and impatient while also feeling like she could sustain herself forever by merely touching him. Her fingers tugged at his coat, pulling him closer so she could tuck her head beneath his chin. “I’ve grown rather fond of you, Jamie.”

 

“Och,” Jamie muttered into her curls. “Ye grow fond of hounds, lass. I hope to be more to ye.”

 

“More?” Claire whispered into his neck, letting her breath tease a path to her ear.

 

“Mmhmm,” he murmured against her mouth. “Come now. It’s nearly time.”

 

Jamie led her back to their boulder and tucked her between limbs and plaid. Together they watched the last of dusk fall into the deep darkness of night before the sky glowed with brilliant shades of green and silver, purple and gold.

 

“Oh Jamie,” Claire whispered. “It’s beautiful…”

 

The Northern Lights, a phenomenon her uncle had spoken of in passing, was beautiful to witness in the northern Scottish sky. Jamie’s arms held her close to his chest as her head fell back against his shoulder.

 

“Aye, tis. You can see it most clearly in the early winter months. I was hoping we’d have a clear night for ye…” His words trailed off as her eyes met his. She entwined her fingers with the hands around her and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered against his lips. Jamie kissed her in answer and felt his blood quickened from her heat. Pressed close, their kiss deepened and Jamie’s hands took up their earlier work of loosening her stays. He felt her hands tangle in his curls as his tongue grew needy and slipped to her neck. Soft mews reached his ears and he groaned his approval as she straddled his lap and move her hips against his.

 

”You’re testing my restraint, Claire.”

 

“Then be rid of it,” Claire answered. “I want you, Jamie.”

 

She rucked up his kilt and slid closer, but felt his hand intervene.

 

”Nay, we can’t. Not here,” he murmured against her lips. She began to protest but he silenced her with a kiss. “I won’t be taking your virginity on the cold ground. Let’s head home, aye?”

 

Claire felt her heart swell as he pressed his forehead to hers. She nodded quickly and pressed her lips to his shoulder, feeling overwhelmed by his tenderness. Yes, he was the closest thing to home she’d felt in years.

 

* * *

 

They dismounted a short distance from camp, expecting to find most bedded down for the evening. Instead, a small crowd had gathered around the chief’s tent, with raised words being thrown between the parties involved. Jamie saw Alex in the fray and immediately started for the crowd, with Claire a step behind him.

 

“You’ve traded her to me enough times that I thought you’d be agreeable, Alex,” said a large brown haired Scot. Claire recalled his name was Will. “She’s happier with me, and you can go about finding another-”

 

“I’ll no have it!” Alex roared. “She is mine to do with as I wish, and if I use her to pay my debts then it is my choice to do so.”

 

“That was your right until I got her with child,” Will said evenly. “She’s been given a choice to come to me, and she’s agreed.”

 

Jamie stepped into the circle and transformed in the firepit’s light, his gentle features turning to steel as he took in the men’s words.

 

“Alex you knew the risk you took in sharing her,” Jamie said evenly. “Will is within his right, and no one else has touched her.”

 

“And what if it’s mine then?” Alex sneered, turning his venom toward his cousin. “The child could be mine after all.”

 

“He hasn’t lain with me in months—” Helen said, but quickly shrunk behind Will as Alex moved to strike her. James stepped forward, neatly intercepting Alex and turning him towards his tent before motioning to Will.

 

Claire startled when Helen appeared at her side, slipping her hand into her own. She’d been staring at the spot the men stood while arguing, and Alex’s tone had frozen her in place. His words reminded her of men she’d overheard in her past, those who would drop women off by the Nuns prayer house as if they were debris. She’d hold their hands while the nuns worked to comfort them, heal their ailing bodies if possible, or offer prayers if it wasn’t.

 

Helen’s hand felt like Mary’s and at that moment Claire realized that Alex’s hatred was not reserved for the English.

 

***

 

Jamie didn’t return to their tent for several hours, and though Claire told herself to sleep, her mind spun with questions for him. When he finally slumped through their tent flap, his expression was dark and irritable.

 

Claire didn’t say a word as she watched him from the bed, her eyes following him as he undressed with less care than he usually took. Finally, he approached the bed, his eyes widening upon seeing her awake.

 

“You should be asleep,” he whispered, sliding in beside her. “Come now, let’s…”

 

“Why did he share her, Jamie?”

 

The words burst from her mouth against her will. She knew he was exhausted but the last few hours had proved a living nightmare for her. She needed answers.

 

Jamie let out a breath, and she could tell he was searching for words and was coming up short.

 

“I canna explain why,” Jamie whispered. “Maybe they weren’t well suited, or…”

 

“But he…he whored her out to pay debts? What kind of debts?”

 

Jamie was still beside her as he listened. He bit his lip and shook his head. “Nothing of consequence. The men gamble from time to time, playing cards. But some don’t know when to back from a game.”

 

Claire felt tears prick at her eyes as she wiped furiously at them, a rage building within her that left her hands shaking.

 

“Would you—”

 

“No. Claire, look at me.”

 

Claire choked on a sob, but slowly brought her eyes up to his. His hand cupped her chin and his gaze visibly softened.

 

“Alex is young and carries demons of his own, but it’s a frowned upon and rare practice for the reason you saw tonight.” Jamie bowed his head to meet her eyes. “You dinna need to fear that of me. Not ever, do you understand?”

 

Claire nodded as she let Jamie pull her close. He murmured softly to her in Gaelic as he ran his fingers through her hair and looped his free arm around her waist. Claire buried her face into his shoulder and neck, and let herself cry out her frustration, anger, and sadness for Helen, and for the other women’s bedsides, she’d sat beside. Jamie didn’t question her tears just as he didn’t question her anger. He accepted them and held her through it until she quieted and calmed. Only then did his fingers begin to poke at her side.

 

“I thought I explicitly told ye to sleep naked…” he said with an exaggerated sigh. Claire felt his smirk against her brow and couldn’t help the one that pulled at her lips.

 

“The bed was too cold without you. I had to wear clothes,” Claire answered, her eyes blinking coquettishly at him.

 

“Mmhmm. Weel, I suppose I can’t argue with you dressing for bed when You’re alone. Dinna forget my preference though.” His hands tugged at her sleeves and a moment later he had her shift off her and thrown on the floor.

 

His lips pressed to her softly, weighing that perhaps she’d changed her mind given the events of the evening, or was now too tired to let him love her body…

 

“Will you have me, Claire?” He asked.

 

Claire pulled him down on top of her and bit his bottom lip. “Only if you stop making me wait.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1000 word burst because i’ve Been a lazy butt! Enjoy!

Claire pulled him down on top of her and bit his bottom lip. “Only if you stop making me wait.”

His breathy laugh caused a stream of goosebumps to creepy down her arms, as if every cell stood at attention for his touch. He pulled away the blankets that separated them until his stomach pressed to hers and his chest hovered above her. His eyes followed the contours of her cheek down her neck to her shoulder his breath leaving a heated path that left her chilled and aching.

Her nipples hardened under his visual inspection, and it was then she finally arched her back to brush against the wiry hairs of his chest. She whimpered as he raised himself just out of reach, and tears began to fall down her cheek from want and frustration.

“Why,” Claire murmured as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “Why won’t you touch me?”

He raised a brow at her before he lowered his mouth to her neck, letting the warmth of his chest press lightly to her and ease her cold breasts. His kisses were soft, and the complete opposite of the ravaging she desired.

“I will,” he answered. “Once the lust loses its hold on you.” When her brows crinkled, he let a soft smile pull at his lips. “Oh, not completely, aye? And it’s no’ that lust isna enjoyable, because it is. But we have plenty of time for that. Tonight, I just wish to know you and want you to know me, aye?”

His forehead brushed to hers, and she nodded as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Their lips met in a tender dance of heat and breath, as their bodies melted into the space separating them. Knees bloomed for muscled hips as friction electrified their cores, a charge jolting into her body and tearing words from her lungs as his mouth inhaled her cries. Slowly they churned pain into pleasure, liquifying words into cries, gasps, and trembling moans. Eyes locked, fingers intertwined overhead, breath shared, they combusted until the flash burn left them spent.

Claire tucked herself into Jamie’s side, contentment filling the space left barren by the burn. His fingers were slow as they moved over each vertebrae, as if memorizing the shape of her. A smile pulled at her lips as she realized her own fingers were tracing his ribs for the exact same reason.

“How is it,” he murmured, “that I already miss you when I’ve just left you?”

Claire didn’t have an answer, but felt his words echo her own thoughts. Pressing her lips to his she coaxed him onto his side and led him back to her twice more before the dawn.

***

Claire woke in the dark morning hours cocooned in warmth, and more than a touch sore. As she became more aware of herself, she realized her soreness actually resembled cramping and bit down on her blanket as one particularly painful one took hold. Steeling herself, Claire clawed herself into a seated position, her limbs feeling heavy and her mind clouded, but recognized her symptoms fairly quickly. She was getting her monthly's, or at least that’s what it felt like. The problem was she hadn’t had her monthlies in months given the bleak food shortage her village had faced. Now, with the presence of abundant food and a lover in her bed, her body was letting her know it was prepared to ovulate, and was quite unhappy about last night’s activeness.

“Jamie?” She whispered, her hand moving over his belly in circles. She noticed then the spattering of blood on her hand, and felt her face flame with embarrassment and unease. She felt her throat thicken, knowing she’d need his help and couldn’t spare herself the inevitable disgust he’d feel. She retracted her hand, and spoke louder. “Jamie?”

“Hmmm,” James murmured. “Claire? Whats—”

“I need you to get Fiona. I need her help.”

“What’s amiss?” His senses seemed to snap to alertness all at once, and Claire winced as she saw his face pale upon inspecting her hands. He was up in an instant, scrambling for his night shirt, before coming back to her side, panic fully underway in his expression. “Fiona? Fiona! Aye.”

Claire watched him tear out of their tent, and scolded herself for the welling tears threatening to fall. Object of desire. Well done Beauchamp.

***

Fiona, bless her heart, was not as easily excited after 40 years of medicine. She followed Jamie at a respectably ginger pace, but beamed a smile at Claire upon entering.

“Hello my dear,” Fiona hummed out as she sat beside Claire on the bed. “James, she’s in no danger of bleeding out. Go arrange a bath in here please.”

“What?” James asked, his eyes wide like saucers as he surveyed the two women. Fiona pressed her lips into a line but patiently repeated. “She’s fine. Fetch a tub for her.”

“Oh. Aye.” And he was gone. Still only in his nightshirt.

Fiona, with the frantic man gone, turned her attention back to Claire.

“Cramps aye?”

Claire nodded as Fiona folded some linen bandages into a thick stack. “Lets lay you back so I can get a better look. Och, Dinna fash, Claire. It’s nothing I havena seen a dozen times over.” Gently examining her, Fiona asked Claire what she suspected. “Monthlies, and perhaps some tearing.”

“Verra minor. Nothing some rest and care won’t cure. And a bath if your man hasn’t lost his wits yet. Aye, this looks and feels mighty worse than it appears, my dear. Just a bit of bad timing for young maid,” Fiona said with a gentle smile.

Claire’s eyes grew wide as her lips pursed. “Fiona, will you not tell—”

“Nothing to tell, Claire.” Fiona interrupted. “All I see is some bad monthlies on a near starved lass. Won’t be the last time, I’m afraid.”

Claire wiped at the tears on her cheek and let her lips mouth a silent “thank you.”


	10. Chapter 10

James paced outside their tent, his nerves not allowing him to stray farther, as a tub was hauled in followed by pails of boiled water. When Fiona emerged she firmly squeezed his arm and bowed her head. 

“You can go in now, my lord.”

“Please, Fiona. No titles when I’ve stolen your sleep with my foolishness.”

“Nonsense. You were right to send for me. I have served Frasers and Mackenzie's all my life and would have you call no other. Goodnight to ye both.”

James watched her until she disappeared over the hilltop, and then turned to his own tent flap. He found Claire in the small tub with her knees tucked under her chin. Her hair curtained her shoulders and sides, and not for the first time, Jamie noted how small she appeared. Had he only known her for four days? Had his life truely changed so dramatically with her entrance, this small, bird like creature, whose heart and courage matched his own? Her eyes widened as she met his gaze, and he noticed the slightest tremor move over her skin.

“I’m sorry for being a burden.”

He felt struck dumb for the second time that early morning. He walked slowly to her side, taking a knee beside the tub and took the washcloth from the edge. He worked the rag over her shoulders, wiping the sheen from the back of her neck. 

“You could never be a burden, Claire. Tell me,” He rasped as he dropped his gaze. “Was I too rough with you?”

“What? No!” She turned and grabbed his hand, her eyes widening in surprise. “No, not at all. My cycle started. That was the worst of it.”

A wave of emotion rippled over Jamie's face. “Christ.” He shut his eyes a moment as his breath steadied. “I thought I killed ye.”

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the panic of the last hour, but a smile tugged at Claire’s mouth until she started to giggle. Jamie looked up and watched her face as it creased with mirth and felt his own lip quirk at the sight.

“Are ye laughing at me, lass?”

”Never. Just the idea of death by copulation.”

Claire tried to contain the sound until Jamie let out a peal of his own laughter. The two dissolved into a fit of hushed giggles as Jamie helped her to her feet and wrapped her in a drying cloth. Claire turned to the supplies Fiona left with her and hesitated when she realized Jamie’s hands were so near. He watched her dutifully, one hand never leaving her waist as she fumbled with the napkin belt ties and bit her lip. 

“I should know how to care for you,” he said softly, when her reddened cheeks persisted. ”I dinna mean to rattle ye.”

Claire nodded as he pulled a clean shift over her head, but her hesitancy remained. 

”It doesn’t put you off?” she asked.

Jamie blinked and rose a brow. ”It would take a real daftie to be put off from you, Sassenach, especially over something natural that you have little control over.”

He pulled back their newly changed bedding and extended a hand out to her. She took it, a small smile playing on her lips as he folded them back into their nest. She turned into his chest and breathed the sweet scent of his skin.

”I grew up a farmer, but I suppose you wouldn’t know that, ” he answered as his fingers tangled in her curls. ”Perhaps we spend the next few nights learning more of each other, aye?”

Claire felt a warmth grow in her belly. ”I’d like that.”

Jamie hummed thoughtfully and pressed his lips to her forehead.

Over the next several days, Claire fell into a tentative routine of work and meals where she remained friendly but quiet with the clan members she interacted with. She kept an eye on Helen, who seemed in good spirits now that she resided with William, and noted that Alex was scarcely seen since the night of the argument. Jamie didn’t speak of his cousin’s absence, often redirecting their conversations to more jovial topics. 

”Did you enjoy traveling with your uncle as a child?” Jamie was laid out on his stomach in their bed, watching as braided some dried herbs for Fiona.

”I did. He was very kind to me, even if he did struggle understanding children. He allowed me an education and an apprenticeship with a doctor, not listening to anyone’s thoughts on the matter but my own.” Her eyes searches for his then, and found a frown and a downturnes brow. ”What is it Jamie?”

”Well, I just…” He looked up at her. ”I worry if I asked too much of you, taking on this life. Wanderers have a spirit that crave the change of the land. And I do enjoy your spirit, Claire.” He said softly, with a gentle amile. ”I would never want to change you.”

Claire shrugged, her eyes glassing over with awkward tears. ”I don’t think I need to be a wanderer to be happy.” she bit at her lip, overwhelmed by his words, and shook herself a bit. ”But what about you? You could change.” He raised a brow at her. ”You could find some other woman, or you could die while on a scouting mission. You could decide you didn’t want me anymore.” Her eyes glanced at him before returning to her finger’s work. ”I’d have no say in the matter.” 

”You will always have a say, ” Jamie stated, sitting up. ”I promise you.”

A blush worked across Claire’s cheeks, but she held his gaze and smiled in return. 

A howl interrupted their conversation, followed by a horn blast that perked Jamie to attention.

“My uncle’s calling a gathering,” Jamie said softly, getting to his feet. Claire dropped her herbs on the table and took a step toward him. 

“Is that unusual?”

“Aye. It is.” Jamie grimaced, but placed her wrap around her shoulders before taking her hand. 

A crowd was already forming outside the main tent, and the large pyre relit for the unexpected event. Jamie pulled her gently towards the front of the crowd until she could see Hector standing with several of the clan elders. They seemed to be in disagreement, but she could discern no more before he turned to address the group now tightly packed together.

“My apologies for calling you all forth so late after supper, but a grievance has been made to the elders, and due to its nature, it must be dealt with immediately. James, please come forward.”

Claire felt her chest constrict when Jamie stiffened beside her. He released her hand and she immediately felt the loss of it as he approached the council. For several minutes, they spoke quietly amongst each other, before she saw Jamie nod his head and turn to face the group.

“James Fraser’s claim has been challenged, albeit anonymously,” Hector spoke aloud. A storm of impatient grumbles burst from the crowd, and Hector raised his hand to silence them. Claire felt her world tilt as fear crept up her spine. 

“As you know, an anonymous challenge cannot nullify a claim, but can dole out punishment.”

“Good God, leave the lad alone and lets get back to our beds,” yelled an older clansman. Claire watched as several of the older men nod their agreement.

“The council has ruled that his claim is sufficient, though James freely admits that the claim was not timely, as is deemed necessary. Because of that, the council has sentenced him to strikes.” Claire watched as Jamie held his hands out to be bound. When satisfied Hector turned Jamie toward the crowd. “Come forth for your reparations.”

Claire gaped as the men formed a line 40 bodies deep. Jamie shot her a reassuring smile, one she could not mirror, before he turned to face the first man. Claire’s gut twisted as the man older clansmen who spoke stepped forward, but was surprised when he lightly tapped Jamie on each cheek. A chuckle rang through the crowd, and Jamie nodded his thanks as he stepped back. One by one, the men showed similar displays. When Alex approached, he kissed Jamie on the cheek, and the two made the crowd roar with laughter as Jamie feigned his disgust.

Slowly, the line dwindled, and Claire began to feel that maybe the claim rules weren’t as serious as Jamie led on. When only 10 men were left, Claire let herself breathe again. This formality was nearly over, and wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as she feared, despite the raised brows and grins the men kept shooting her. 

William stepped forward next, and placed his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. When his fist nearly caved in Jamie’s ribs, the laughter fell silent. Claire’s jaw trembled as she watched Jamie’s face turn red as he struggled to breathe, but stood his ground. The next man stepped forward and allowed Jamie to straighten before his elbow connected with his jaw. 

“No!” Claire cried and stepped forward, but a solid arm held her in place.

“Nay, woman,” Alex whispered to her. “You’ll make it worse.”

“Let go of me,” she hissed at him, as she watched the next man land a kick to Jamie’s hip. “I’m supposed to watch as they kill him?” She whispered back. 

“Not kill,” Alex responded. “Beat. And I’m more interested in whom, so hush.” Claire watched as the last man stepped up to Jamie and helped him to his feet instead of landing a blow to his bloodied face. Holding his side, Jamie turned to the council. Their heads nodded, and a moment later the crowd dispersed. 

Alex released her, and Claire ran to get an arm around Jamie’s waist. “I’m all right,” Jamie muffled through his cut lip. “It’s done with, at least.” Alex untied Jamie’s hands, and when the council was out of earshot, shot Jamie a disecting glare.   
“Ye could of lied, ye dolt.”

“Wasn’t worth the risk,” Jamie muttered, as he spit blood on the ground. “Besides, I wanted to know who…had the nerve…ach…” Jamie winced as Claire poked at his ribs. “I’m no’ a pin cushion, Claire.”

“Stop talking. Let Alex help you back. I need to see Fiona.” 

Claire turned and stomped off towards the healer’s tent, leaving both men with raised brows.


End file.
